Guide and Guardian
by Kalia of Camelot
Summary: Modern AU. A recently orphaned Christine is comforted by the angelic voice that sings to her one night. As her angel teaches her to sing, he begins to take over her life...
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! I haven't written fanfic for a while and I felt like trying my hand at some christine/erik seeing as they're my OTP and I haven't written any phantom fics before. I've read a lot of modern AUs and I've tried not to copy anyone else's work but obviously a lot of the details are the same!**  
**I own nothing, blah blah blah. I don't know where this story is going exactly so the rating may change depending on the content. Hope you enjoy! X**

Christine gently lifted the violin out of her father's battered case, her fingers shaking. She placed it under her chin and dragged the bow across the strings, adjusting the pitches until they were just right. Just playing the open strings nearly brought tears to her eyes - the sound was so familiar and comforting. It had been too long since she'd heard it. The sweet sound took her back to the days when it was her father who played the instrument, and she would sing along by his side. Christine smiled as she thought back, but then became solemn again. Those days were gone.

Christine took a deep breath and began to play. It was a slow, lamenting piece that her father had first played in the days after Christine's mother died. As she played, Christine felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. She had missed her music. She hadn't sung since her father died, and this was the first time she had managed to play his violin. The first few times it had just been too hard to hear the sounds she had always associated with him, but today she had stayed strong. No more tears. Christine knew that her father would've wanted the instrument to be played.

Christine's father had been overjoyed by her natural musical talent - she had inherited his love of the violin as well as some of his skill at playing it. She had always been fascinated with the piano too, and delighted to hear a flute or clarinet, but that was not where Christine's true talent lay.

It was Christine's voice that had stopped strangers passing by as she sang in the park; her clear soprano voice that had been her father's greatest joy. He used to say the she must've been blessed by an angel of music, but Christine found it hard to believe in angels now. Being left completely alone at sixteen with next to no money and no relatives to speak of had forced her to reject ideas of divine intervention.

Christine's melody filled the small practise room as she poured all of her emotions into the piece. Pain, longing, regret, and so many more feelings that she could not name came spilling out of her and filled the air around her with a beautiful, wistful melody. For a while she stayed like that, and the burdens and trials that she faced everyday seemed to fade into the background. While she played, Christine thought only of her father.

And then, the piece ended, and the last note rang in the air for a moment. Christine slowly lowered the violin and laid it in the case. She loosened the bow and slid it into place, then shut the lid. Christine glanced at the clock. It was late in the evening, but no one would be worried if she was late back. No one would even notice.

Suddenly, Christine felt an overwhelming desire to sing. She couldn't have explained why, but the need to sing once again, to prove that she still could even after everything was so strong that she moved to the middle of the room and took a deep breath. Opening her mouth, she began to sing.

_"Father once spoke of an angel_  
_I used to dream he'd appear_  
_Now I'm alone in the darkness_  
_And there's no one here!_

_Angel of music_  
_Why deny me?_  
_No one is here with me_

_Angel, I'm helpless_  
_Lost and grieving_  
_Save me I pray, angel!"_

And then Christine felt the tidal wave slam into her once again and she sank down to the floor, sobbing.

He watched as the beautiful girl ended her song, then dropped to the floor and stayed there, crying. He didn't move. The shock of the purity and sweetness of her voice had frozen him. Suddenly, he snapped out of his stupor and tried to think, his pulse racing. But the flawless beauty he had just heard combined with the sight of the girl still shaking on the ground made it very difficult for him to form coherent thoughts, and so he gave in to his instinct. He began to sing softly, to the same tune as the girl.

_"Your Angel of music's_  
_Here beside you_  
_Now dry your tears, my dear"_

At first the girl's eyes had widened as her head whipped around, startled by the voice that seemingly came from nowhere. But as she registered the angelic quality of the sound, the crying began to subside. He continued, watching her carefully thought the false mirror.

_"I am your _  
_Angel of music_  
_Here to guide you_  
_Calm down and rest, heav'n blessed"_

There was no doubt in Christine's mind that a voice like that belonged to an angel. It was deep and rich and beautiful, and all she wanted in the world was for it to keep singing. She had stopped crying now, and caught up in the music she replied in song.

_"Angel I hear you_  
_Speak, I listen_  
_Stay by my side_  
_Guide me"_

There was a pause then, and Christine might have worried that the angelic presence had left her if not for the feeling of being watched. In other circumstances this might have been unnerving but Christine felt relaxed by the sensation. She wasn't alone any more.

Curling up again on the carpet, Christine realised just how tired she was. Her sleep had been disturbed for months, but here in the practise room it was safe and warm, and someone was watching over her at last. Her eyelids began to fall. The last thing she heard before drifting away was one last line in that heavenly voice.

_"I am your angel of music"_

**I found this this quite hard to write, especially the lyrics that I had to change so sorry about them! Any feedback would be really really appreciated so if you have a moment leave a thought for me :) thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is dedicated to emeraldphan for their lovely review and also a bit of help with something I was looking for, and also to goldenphoenix who may or may not actually ever read this seeing as she's not a fan of musicals ( I know!).**

**I'm hoping that this can develop into romance for e/c without it being too creepy and dark but that can be hard to achieve. I've made the age gap as small as is reasonable so Christine is now seventeen and Erik will be in his early twenties.**

**Last night I watched a recording of phantom at the Royal Albert hall. I cried (a lot) and marvelled at the gorgeousness of all the phantoms and then I wanted to write, so here this is!**

**I don't own phantom - if I did the ending would be a little different ;)**

The sunlight streaming through the window illuminated the specks of dust floating and falling mid-air. Christine scrunched up her face, then blearily blinked her eyes. She sighed, and was just closing her eyes again when they shot open and she sat up, suddenly wide awake.

That voice.

She took in her surroundings and her mouth fell open. She could feel tears coming as the realisation hit her.

No, no! It couldn't have been a dream! And yet here she was, in her bed in the little attic room. Christine felt crashing disappointment surround her as that feeling of protection slipped away. She was still alone after all. No angels had miraculously appeared, no disembodied voices had sung her to sleep. It had all been a dream.

And yet, what a dream! It had felt so real, and she still recalled every moment with incredible clarity and detail. She had been playing her father's violin - but, hadn't that actually happened? Christine knew she had gone to the practise rooms and played the old violin, she was _certain_ that that at least had been real.

And after she had played, she had sung. And when she had started to cry, _he_ had sung.

Confused, Chrisine played everything back in her head. Was it possible that she had actually passed out from crying and exhaustion, and someone had brought her back here? Who? As much as it pained her to think it, the angel couldn't have been there. It had been such a wonderful dream, but a dream no less. So how had she woken up here?

Christine glanced at her clock, then nearly fell out of her uncomfortable bed. She was so, so late! Grumbling and muttering, she raced around the room getting ready before speeding out and down the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later she burst into the café with an apology on her lips but it vanished as she saw the crowd of people jostling at the till. Christine fought her way through and finally reached the counter, unlocking her cash register quickly and throwing an agonised look at poor Meg who had been left to deal with the small army of impatient customers alone. Meg rolled her eyes but a quirk of her lips told Christine that she wasn't really angry, and Christine breathed out both in relief and slight panic. She turned to face the throng of people filling the café and pasted on a "patient employee" smile.

"Good morning sir, what can I get you today?"

"So your excuse for abandoning me to fight for me life against the hordes of customers is that you overslept?" Meg looked decidedly unimpressed. "Christine, you never get enough sleep and trust me, I'm glad that you're getting some rest, but don't you think it's time to invest in an alarm clock?"

"I know, I'm so, so -"

"Sorry, yes I heard you the first five times! I know." Meg sighed and Christine smiled weakly.  
"Just don't do it again, okay? I barely escaped with my life!"

Christine's smile grew and she nudged her friend.

"Drama queen" she teased gently.

"And proud of it." Meg sniffed. The customers had all been served now, with only a few remaining people sitting at the lonely tables. It was mid morning and looked to be a beautiful day outside, not that Christine would get to enjoy it from inside the café. And when she finally got off work that evening, Christine knew that, as always, she would have just enough energy to do her homework before collapsing on her bed.

Another customer walked in and Meg served him quickly before remembering something and turning back to her best friend.

"Oh Christine, I forgot - I told Poligny that you were staying with your aunt in town and got stuck there overnight."

Christine stared at her, exasperated.

"Why would you do that? He knows I don't have any family; that's why I have to work here in the first place! I still think he only took me on so I could finish school. He'll have seen right though it!"

Meg threw her hands up. "What was I supposed to say? He put me on the spot and I didn't know why you weren't here, it was just the first thing that came into my head!"

Christine sighed. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault Meg, it was mine. Don't worry about it, I'm sure he'll understand."

"Mm" was Meg's uncertain reply.

As predicted, Christine barely managed to finish her homework that evening before stumbling to her bed and flopping down on it. She was absolutely exhausted, but that was nothing new. Even after her extra sleep, it had been a long, troublesome day.

One customer had threatened to complain when her chai latte wasn't hot enough, and after Christine's profuse apology and an offer to do another one free of charge, the girl had just scowled and stalked out, throwing the full cup of scalding hot liquid into the bin. Christine couldn't understand how anyone could be so rude. Of course, she'd encountered worse than moody teenagers in this job - working with the public had its drawbacks, especially when Christine was the only thing between the customer and their caffeine. She didn't mind, really - Christine was just so grateful to have the job that she didn't care that much about the negatives.

Without this job, and the generous discount she received on her school bills. Christine didn't know where she'd be. Certainly not here at the Garnier School for Girls, working towards her A levels. She did have to live in the little attic room away from the other girls' dormitories but that suited Christine quite well. She was not an unfriendly girl, but appreciated her privacy, and very much liked having somewhere quiet to retreat to at the end of the day. She still had to trek to the shared girl's bathrooms two floors down every morning and evening, though.

Having finally finished her essay, Christine rolled over on her bed to pick up her romance novel from the bedside table she had found in a charity shop. However, her gaze landed not on the book, but on something quite unexpected.

A single red rose, thorns removed and tied with a black ribbon lay innocently on the table.

**Please leave me a review! I would love to have any kind of feedback at all. Thank you!**


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